Calendar
by Firevega21
Summary: Marco thinks 'it' starts on Monday. Slash, SpinnerMarco, Sparco. Takes place a long while after 'Eye of the Tiger'.


Disclaimer: I do not, and will not, ever, own _Degrassi_. Rub it in, why don't you!

Author's Notes: Um...okay. Well, I haven't written any type of anything for Degrassi since, let's just say 'a while'. For some reason, I got the urge to read Sparco today. While reading '_The boy is mine_,' by the lovely Duke of Sparco, CosmicPudding, I saw that he once referred to me as the Goddess of Sparco - or something like that. Anyway, I felt guilty for completely abandoning this pairing, as well as Degrassi fiction in general. Thus, I drabbled. This is the first time I've written anything for this pairing since August, I believe, so if characters seem rusty - deal with it. If you read this and enjoy it, then please review. It will be appreciated. And just to anyone who was reading anything of mine, I plan on starting _Enchanted _again.

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Marco thinks 'it' starts on Monday.

Whatever 'it' is, he's not exactly sure of, but he knows that the roots start digging in on Monday.

Because on Monday, the air was different. Just the slightest degree cooler than the regular frigid surroundings of December, but it was still enough to make him hold his jacket a little bit closer when he left home, and it was still enough to make him quicken his pace when he was walking into school. At the time, a degree lower from the average temperature wasn't something that weighed heavily on his mind, wasn't something that made him stop and think and question, and it didn't feel quite so surreal.

On Tuesday, 'it' got a little bigger, a little more footing on the frozen ground.

Because on Tuesday, the cafeteria food, the day old meatloaf and stale bread and not-quite-cold-as-ice milk tasted almost decent on the back of his tongue, and he managed to actually keep down the few bites of chicken friend steak or steak fried chicken or chicken fried chicken that he took. In that moment, when he was chewing on the not-so-fresh green bean casserole, he barely even noticed the utter significance of the fact that he, the boy who had been unable to keep any type of food down, especially the slight toxic cafeteria food, for who-remembered-how-long, was actually ingesting a full meal. In that moment, it was completely mechanical; cut the meat, scoop it up, chew, and swallow. Cut, scoop, chew, chew, swallow. In that moment, he didn't remember it was more than he had been able to for a long time.

On Wednesday, 'it' had brought itself to a sort of kneeling position, hands and knees still stuck to sharpened edges of snow and cold, but not as shaky or fragile as before.

Because on Wednesday, the sun comes out, and actual light, actual golden rays of Heaven's star are touching down to his tiny patch of Earth, warming the pollution fused air and golden, hazard numbed skin. The cold that was so easily dismissed on Monday dissipate, some type of smoky, blurry thing in the past that faded back into the sky, and he can take the food he can keep down now outside to the tables. For the first time, for the first time in forever and some good chunk of time before it, he felt something, could actually understand it happening when the clouds moved back and sun hit his face and even the bitter chill veiling his still cracking smile wasn't quite so cold.

On Thursday, 'it' grew claws, 'it' grew vindictive and spiteful and turned ivory into crimson with easy scratches and poison doubts, 'it' worked inside his mind, to the back where all the fears hide, and brought them back to life again.

Because on Thursday, he couldn't get out of bed. There was a pain in his stomach, growling and scratching from the inside, tearing at flesh and bone and his vision was so numb with pain the only think he could see was white, and his head was pounding, little words and conspiracy whispers digging, digging, crawling underneath his brain and he just wanted them _out_. He just wanted to not hurt, wanted to stop wanting because he couldn't take this feeling of betrayal, burning and scaring and filling him with things he didn't want to acknowledge, didn't want to remember or admit to feeling.

On Friday, 'it' saved his life, 'it' grew soothing and gentle and repentant, and led him back to a place of peace he had all but forgotten.

Because on Friday, he remembers the cold, and knows that it was the same frigid air he breathed in everyday, and he remembers being able to swallow something that wasn't bile or tears, and knows that it was because his body was finally relaxing, dispersing all those unreleased screams, and he remembers the sun being released, having the tiniest shred of pity for those suffering in the cold, and he knows that it's been there, for so long, he just couldn't ever feel it, couldn't grasp the heat, couldn't see that it had been there all along, and he remembers the agony, all twisted and raging inside of him, and he knows it was all in his head, all the pain and hurt and fear and loss, every emotion banished from thought coming back at full force, punishing him for ignorance and reminding him of everything that once meant anything to him.

Because on Friday, he tells Spinner, 'hi'.

Because on Friday, he acknowledges Spinner's existence again, and he smiles at Spinner again, and everything that was wrong with the world, all the monsters under his bed at night, all the dirt road miles covered with jagged memories, everything is just right again, that everything is somehow _okay_.

Because on Friday, Marco forgives him. Marco hugs him and kisses his cheek and gives that sparkle grin he knows makes them all cave in. Marco remembers that there is still hope for him, still a chance he can turn around, learn not to make stupid decisions and last minute choices and make everything bad he did be okay again.

Because on Friday, Marco lets Spinner back in, Marco gets his best friend and brother and hero back, and Spinner gets a chance, a final chance, to redeem himself.

Because on Friday, they sit in the alley behind _The Dot _and Spinner holds Marco's hand and they talk about stuff like Marco's first date and Spinner's bad tan. When Marco announces he has to go him, in a voice with genuine reluctance to leave the company, Spinner asks if he'll call, and Spinner looks like something lost and hurt and filled with this kind of faith that makes Marco's heart skip a beat. When Marco doesn't answer, lost in thoughts and memories of all the times before, all the smiles and laughter and how much he would do anything to get it back, Spinner stands up and tries to keep himself from crumbling at Marco's feet, from looking too pathetic by practically grabbing onto Marco and begging for Marco not to leave him, not again, because everybody leaves him and he's just afraid he's going to loose the only thing he ever really wanted back.

Because on Friday, Marco kisses Spinner for the first time, and there's this kind of understanding, kind of heart aching forgiveness on Marco's lips, and Spinner actually thinks that, if for only this moment, he can go on living and not hurt so much anymore. Marco doesn't mean for it to be a kiss, he means for it to show Spinner that there's nowhere he can go, nothing he can do, that would mean living Spinner behind again. But Spinner is kissing back, more than a little light lip brushing lip, promising things that will never fade, but like he doesn't need forgiveness and vows of friendship, but like he needs _Marco_, needs this body close to his and fingers on his own and Marco's hair brushing his skin, like he needs to kiss Marco and have it mean something more than what Marco thought he was offering.

Because on Friday, 'it' explodes, takes over Marco's body and tells him to give Spinner everything he's asking for, and it tells him to put his fingertips on Spinner's cheek, and it tells him to be everything for Spinner, everything and more, and never leave him or hurt him or doubt him again. 'It' bursts into a million different pieces, slips into Spinner's head and tells him to take this chance, and it tells him not to let Marco go, and it tells him to never abandon him or pain him or not believe in him again.

Spinner thinks 'it' starts today.


End file.
